Attraction- Part 9

Attraction
An "Enterprise" story

Written by Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: NC-17
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Trip and T'Pol are finally free to express their feelings for each other. The Captain is forced to face his own dark night of the soul."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 9

"ONE"

* * * * *

She could hardly believe he was really with her. Whole. Solid. Real. For what seemed like an eternity they simply gazed at each other, content to drink in the others presence and feast on the treasured sight. She tilted her head the better to lean into his touch. A sweet smile bowed his lips, the radiance of his joy bathing her in a warmth she would die for. *Ya came back.* He sighed directly into her waiting heart. So happy.

Her eyes danced but her heart soared. *I want to be with you, Ashayam, all the days of our lives.*

She could see how much her words moved him. His emotion just made her love him more, her hands engracing him, her lips blessing his like the word of God. The kiss was so tender it was almost chaste. A soft and gentle binding of hearts. The kiss deepened, her thoughts laughing lightly in his. Such a rare pleasure he revelled in her happy state and could not get enough. *Darlin', do ya have any idea how ya make me feel?*

*Why don't you show me?*

His eyebrows rose. *Brazen hussy.* He mocked lovingly.

She adored him. Her hands worshipping him. It was as if something that had been trapped and kept in darkness had suddenly found the light. Was magically freed of all restraints, unencumbered and magnificent. She gave unstintingly and he felt honoured and humbled by each gift. As she melted into his embrace she became aware of the moisture on his cheek as she loved him. She tasted the salt and grieved for each tear. *Why are you crying, beloved?*

*I just love ya so much, T'Pol. You're my life. My soul.*

*As you are mine.* Her thoughts hushed.

She kissed his tears slowly, his hands warming cool flesh as they disrobed each other. Gradually they became aware of the music. Trip was surprised as he recognised the strains but was willing to let it flow over them, touch them with its' beauty and pass on. He was in love and he did not care if the whole Universe knew it. T'Pol touched his face gently. He knew what she wanted but also why she hesitated. *It's okay, darlin'. If ya want it so do I.*

*I do not know if a mind meld will work here, Trip.*

*On'y one way to find out, sweethea.rt*

*I do not want to hurt you.*

*I'd rather be hurt by you than loved by someone else.*

He felt her humour. Dry and witty and sharp as a bagful of tacks. *That is illogical. It does not make sense.*

He laughed and hugged her to his heart, so happy he thought he would burst with the sheer joy of it. Her fingers splayed across his cheek. Finding the contact points and deepening their connection as he kissed her, their bodies matching each others' planes and valleys. Hands absorbing the shock of a perfect docking manouevre. T'Pol felt her body shiver and sigh with need as her interior muscles rippled up his throbbing shaft, claiming him for her own and drawing him in. A deep possession filling her moist haven. An intense emotional desire to be bonded to him forever. He felt it like a conflagration in his mind, the flames of her regard setting him alight with something beyond mortal passion. He could feel himself opening up, falling, expanding and filling with a rush of emotions that tossed him like a leaf in a tempest. Her feelings so raw and passionate that his lungs flagged for air made more precious to him by coming from her lungs. He could not breathe without her. The blood in his veins sang the sweetest of songs, every note echoed her name. Buried deep within her vibrant heat he began to move, her tight walls rolling up and down him, robbing him of the ability to do anything but love her. No other thought existed in his head. No other imperative drove his body to fulfill their mutual need. Their hearts already one, their minds joining in a many layer cornucopia of feelings - many so subtle words could never describe them nor do them justice. Now their bodies were merging also. The combined ecstasy was beyond intense.

T'Pol was lost in a delight that shook her to within an inch of oblivion. She surfed his mind with ease, intensifying his awareness of their love making so that he would miss nothing. Their thoughts caressed each other as their bodies came to orgasm in waves of ecstasy that pounded each others' shores in an echoing concatanation. Like a tsunami, the seventh wave of the seventh wave lifted them up to crash together with such passion that they thought they had died and been reborn. They lay wrapped up in each other in a beautiful glowing post-coital bliss. Trip touched her so tenderly, caressing her with his eyes, his heart laid out before her. A final gift. The only one that mattered. She rested her head against his chest and drew him in close. Trip smiled and held her gently, his look one of such peace and content that it brought a tear to Malcolm Reed's eye. He watched over his two friends as their eyes became heavy and closed. Let them sleep. He would keep them safe. Once they woke there would be time enough to consider their options and how and when it would be best to leave this fragile paradise.

As he shook the moisture from Trip's harmonica and tapped it dry against the palm of his hand he hoped and prayed that they would find a way back and that when they did a solution could be found for his two friends. Thoughtfully he tucked the harmonica away and settled down to keep watch. His burden of care a precious thing because it was born of love. Affection. So many things Trip had taught him. As he watched them sleep his thoughts turned to the Captain. Like a cloud blocking the sun it formed a shadow over his heart. Troubled he tried to think of something else but his thoughts would not move on. There had to be a way to solve this dilemna without any of his friends getting hurt. He sighed. Looked at how their limbs had wound round each other like a Chinese puzzle. Idly he wondered if they were drawn apart whether the puzzle would fall apart. His heart ached at the thought. Frantically he prayed for them. If there was anything he could do in his power to help them he would.

* * * * *

Dr. Phlox could not understand the Captain. "What did you mean, you *did* that to the Commander?"

The Captain swallowed hard. Dr. Phlox noticed he was sweating profusely but was reluctant to adminsiter another hypospray. To his relief the Captain sat down. For several moments he stared at the floor, unable or unwilling to look the doctor in the eye. At last he raised his head. "Somehow I woke up - *there*. Wherever *there* really is. It was like I was in some kind of dream."

The doctor made no comment. He was watching the Captain closely. Listening to every word but also monitoring his condition. The aching tremor of his laboured breath. Even calming down he was tense.

"Then I saw him. Trip." He broke off to master strong negative emotions. Alarmed at his returning feelings of rage, betrayal, and jealousy. He thought that once he was back those feelings would be exorcised. Gone. How little he understood still less knew. "I was incensed. How dare he think to pursue a relationship with the Sub-Commander after I had explicity reminded him of the regulations."

"Regulations?" Asked the doctor in a carefully neutral voice.

Captain Archer nodded. "Yes. Starfleet Regulations prohibit fraternisation between the ranks."

"The Sub-Commander is not Starfleet, Captain." Reminded the doctor softly.

"I... I know that, doctor." He paused and looked the Denobulan in the eye. "We've had a damn hard fight on our hands to get this far. What with the Vulcans putting obstacles in our way, holding us back from the dream of space flight." Another pause. "Something like this could blow the whole mission to hell."

"I see." Said the doctor slowly. "So your feelings, your reactions, were solely due to this consideration and the sense that the Commander had somehow gone against your direct order?"

He nodded. It was not the whole truth and they both knew it. The Captain was not quite ready to accept Dr Phlox as his Father Confessor. They lapsed into silence for a while.

"Then your anger is driven primarily by... disappointment?"

The Captain stared at him. Was that it? Disappointment? He wanted to laugh only the sound would have been bitter and would have left a ragged hole in his heart. "I was disappointed, yes."

"But that is not the whole of it?" Guessed the doctor.

"Doctor, this whole mess could blow up in our faces."

"*Our* faces or theirs, Captain?" Or do you really mean *yours*?

The Captain was a good man but at times he was so transparent. Now was one of those times. He wondered why he did not just come out and say it then he realised. He could not do that. Regulations bound him hand and foot, and heart too - seemingly. It was a conundrum but one that needed to be solved, unravelled, worked out, faced. If only to prevent others becoming tied up in its' voluminous threads and making a mockery of all their hopes stood for. Honesty was the only way he could see to move forward. But looking at his Captain he could see he was not quite there yet.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed woke slowly. He felt drowsy. His body so relaxed, his mind so happy. No. That was not the word. He thought a moment in an effort to be more precise and large smile spread across his face. No. He was content. Deeply content. He blinked up at the ceiling, dazzled, and froze. Ceiling. A feeling of dread crept over him making his skin tingle, cold and clammy. He sat up and realised he was back on Enterprise. He squinted at the sickbay lights and looked around him. Why did Dr Phlox need them this bright? He wished he could have woken in his own modest quarters. At least he would have had the privacy to adjust to his return before being bombarded with a barrage of questions he either could not or would not answer. Hope flared suddenly in his heart as a thought occurred to him but fast on its' heels came its' cousin worry. Were his friends back as well? If so, what would happen now? Would the Captain carry out his threat? He had to know, to find out. As he swung his feet off the bed he took a deep breath and wriggled his nose. Ah. Yes. Perhaps he would take a shower first. If the doctor would let him.

No sooner was he poised to stand than he froze for the second time and cocked his head to one side. Voices. Two at least. He recognised Dr. Phlox but could not hear his words very clearly. The other voice shook him. It was the Captain. He noticed the other biobeds seemed to be empty with one partly curtained off at the end nearest the door. The voices were coming from behind the curtain. Just as Lieutenant Reed was wondering whether to draw their attention to the fact that he had returned Ensign Cutler came into sickbay carrying a tray. She smiled encouragingly on seeing him awake and walked briskly over to him. "Lieutenant, we were getting worried about you. How do you feel?"

"Like I could eat the side of a cow."

She laughed lightly and Malcolm noticed the voices had stopped talking. Seconds later the rest of the curtain was drawn back and Captain Archer stared at him as if he was looking at a ghost. Not so the good doctor. Dr Phlox beamed and hurried over to him. "Lietuenant Reed, I am pleased to see you are back with us. This is indeed good news. You had us quite worried, did you know that?"

Lieutenant Reed was silent. He was looking at the Captain. Waiting to see where the Sword of Damocles would fall. Praying that the Captain had regained a measure of common sense on his return to Enterprise. The wary silence was beginning to become painful. If Dr. Phlox noticed it he gave no sign as he bustled around the Lieutenant, checking his biosigns and making sure that he was unharmed. Ensign Cutler looked at the doctor. He gave her a tiny smile and nodded to the tray of implements she was carrying. "Those need to be sterilised, Ensign."

Grateful for his prompt she nodded, paused to smile back at Malcolm, then hurried off to continue her duties.

* * * * *

She roused him again. The whole sunset seemed to surround them now. Every direction they looked the beautiful haunting colours bled across a sky created just for them. It was like making love in the rarified atmosphere of that sunset. How weird was that? How heart achingly perfect. The ground was formless beneath them. They lay in a naked tangle of limbs, T'Pol doing things to him that he would never have dreamed possible. There was an ache and laughter in his voice as he struggled to speak. Even mind to mind she could tie him in knots with just a look. A touch. *I never knew ya were double jointed, darlin'.*

An eyebrow rose striking a regal pose. He gasped lightly. Her interior muscles caressing him so tightly, sparking off sensations in his gut that had him aching for a second breath. Her muscles flexed in a slow measured control, drawing his spasm out so that he leaked gradually inside her. Unable to orgasm in his usual rush of passion. Perspiration made him shine. A bright glossy gem that pleased her immensely. Her level of control was truly something else. *Double jointed?*

*An expression, T'Pol*

He felt her amusement as her thoughts caressed his, a delicate slide that somehow matched her bodily movements. Oh God she was killing him. He closed his eyes in the sweetness of that ecstasy. Her lips bent in a kiss to revive him. *Is this too much, Ashayam?*

Eyes opened, glazed but focused on her beautiful face. He glowed with love. She shone with the gentle thrill of possession. *No, my love. Anythin' ya do to me can never be too much.*

Again the eyebrow arched, this time in amusement. He loved the subtle nuances of her expressions. It thrilled him that most people would see only a blank unfeeling face but he knew differently. Recognised all the flickers of unspoken passion. He lay boneless beneath her, his breathing shallow little pants that evaporated at her touch. He closed his eyes as another contraction drew more seminal fluid from him like milk through a straw. Only he felt *everything*. All the subtle little twitches of her muscles, the flowing warmth of her own juices lapping around him. Teasing with a gentle ebb and flow like some inland sea. *Tropical waters.* He thought faintly, giddy with joy. *I always liked tropical waters.*

Then she was building him up to another shattering climax. Even awash with her he could not get enough and she felt the same. Spending all their pent up passion in a long slow emotional release that defied anything the universe could throw at them. The entity watched. Unseen. Unnoticed. Read their feelings and watched their gentle interaction. Interesting. The entity had never seen such a lyrical exchange of passions. Such love. Such tenderness drawn in heart, body and mind. Souls joined beyond the merging of their bodies. Instinctively they knew it already. Craved it eternally. The male and the female were truly most beautifully matched. It waited with timeless patience. Its' form veiled and lost in subtle changing hues of the sunset that bathed their conjoined bodies and clothed them with its ambient light. When sleep eventually reclaimed them the offer would be made. The entity did not expect them to refuse.

* * * * *

Dr. Phlox had been reluctant to leave them alone. At times the Captain acted irrationally and the doctor had not liked the injuries inflicted - even fleetingly - upon the now absent Commander. Was he wise to allow Lieutenant Reed to remain alone with him? He shook himself. Captain Jonathan Archer was not a monster. Besides, the Tactical Armoury Officer was not like Commander Tucker. If the Captain tried anything the Lieutenant would not simply take it. He would react. Swiftly. Firmly. Perhaps that was what the Captain needed. A short sharp shock to bring him back to his senses.

The sickbay was praeternaturally quiet. Even the background noises of the doctor's exotic animal friends was absent. Or maybe they were just so focused on each other they had blocked everything else out. Lieutenant Reed waited. Since being in that dreamscape with Trip he had learnt the value and pleasure of patience. A joy that brought calm to the soul. Not so the Captain. He looked agitated. Tense. An emotional tinderbox waiting for a match to ignite it. At last the Captain spoke. "Why did you come back but not Trip and T'Pol?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Anger clouded the Captain's vision. He fought to remain calm. This was Lt Reed he was dealing with. A man with almost as much control over his passions as a Vulcan. The thought burned him. The comparison twisted his face in a scowl. Right now Lt Reed did not like what he was seeing. He did not hate the Captain but he was not sure he would ever regain his respect for him.

"How did you manage to return, sir?"

The question threw him. As if the Lieutenant would not dare to take the proactive approach in this conversation. He was the Captain after all. Malcolm was just a Lieutenant. A subordinate. A minion. He caught himself with horror. Had he really just likened Malcolm to a minion? The Lieutenant gave him an anxious look.

"Captain? Are you all right?"

He snapped back into focus. "Yes." He shook his head and let out a great breath. It seemed to calm him just a little. "No. I'm not alright." He stared at the Lieutenant for a long moment. "I attacked my best friend, probably lost his friendship forever." He sucked in a painful breath then ran a hand through his hair. "Before you tell me what a fool I've been Malcolm, I know I have. If he never talks to me again it will be no more than I deserve."

The admission shocked the Lieutenant. A glimmer of hope rekindled. Perhaps this would not end so badly after all? The Captain was showing remorse. A good sign on a long road. Still, he was cautious. "What about the Sub-Commander?"

"T'Pol?"

He nodded. The Captain sighed.

"I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"Yes sir, you have."

A ghost of a smile touched the handsome face, a little more of the tension rolling off him. "You could always let me down gently." He mused. Knowing Malcolm would do no such thing. In a way he craved the Armoury Officer's no-nonsense straight talking. It might not be what he wanted but it was what he needed. He was an intelligent man. A compassionate one. His aberrant behaviour was no mitigation for what he had done and he knew it. None of the other crew would dare to say to him what this man would. Not because he lacked respect but because he was basically an honest man. It was the essence of who and what he was. A truth that would bow to no man. Answer to no threat. A righteous man in a disingenuous universe. There was much he admired about Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. For all his foibles no man could have a more loyal or trustworthy friend. And there was the rub. Friend. Commander Tucker had somehow breached that cool British reserve. Earned a sense of brotherhood that he had once shared. He knew that Malcolm considered Trip his best friend. That had once been his perogative. Now he had to find a way to undo all the damage he had done.

"Malcolm."

"Yes, sir?"

"How do I bring them back?"

He took his time answering. "I'm not sure you can, sir."

"That is not the answer I want to hear."

"Nevertheless Captain you must know by now that we have no control over when or how we enter that dreamscape. If that is what it is. There is something - an entity of some kind - controlling it. My suspicion would be that you would have to find a way to appeal to that entity."

"How do I do that?"

The Lieutenant paused for so long the Captain wondered if he was going to answer him. "I honestly don't know."

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato was smiling for the first time in days. She was in the mess hall with Travis Mayweather. Although she was still worried, she was also relieved. "Malcolm's back! I can't wait to see him. Perhaps he can tell us what's happened to Trip and T'Pol. Or maybe they will return any minute now."

Travis watched her animated face as she tucked into her pasta. He was not as optimistic as usual but tried to hide it. It worried him that Lt Reed had returned alone but then he reasoned so had the Captain. Maybe Hoshi was right? He nodded as he tucked into his hash browns. "Sounds good to me."

She paused. Gave him a critical look, her brow furrowing. "You *do* think they'll come back, don't you Travis?"

He swallowed awkwardly. "Sure. Why wouldn't they?"

Hoshi said nothing. Trying to batten down the rattlers stirring in her stomach. They continued their meal in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.

* * * * *

It was not until he had finally been allowed to leave sickbay and return to his own quarters that he found it. The shower was running and he was stripping off when something fell out of a pocket. He bent and froze. Eyes locked on the shiny metallic object at his feet. It was Trip's harmonica. A rush of emotion caught at his heart. Slowly he picked it up. His look almost reverential. "Bloody hell, it *was* real."

Even though he knew that they had been elsewhere he had always imagined it was a creation of the mind. Whether his, Trip's or the entity's he did not know. But he had returned and managed to bring with him a solid object. That changed everything. Different goal posts. He thought of aports, the pyschic manifestation of physical objects seemingly out of thin air. Bilocation. Objects moved from one location to another seemingly through no outside agency. Believers called it proof of the spirit world. The actions of the dead come back to haunt the liviing. He was not sure what to call it except that it was creeping him out. Swallowing carefully, he went to the shower and shut it off. Selecting some old sweat pants and a top he quickly pulled them on and slipped into his canvas shoes. Time to check something out. Now. Quickly. Before he lost his nerve.

* * * * *

It was odd but he felt much better. His talk with Malcolm had raised no answers but it had helped him to externalise his feelings of guilt. Find a release for the build up of anger that threatened to consume him. He was actually beginning to be able to rationalise. To detach himself from his emotions enough to see things more clearly. Dr. Phlox was right. The Sub-Commander was not a member of Starfleet so technically speaking there could be no infringement of the rules of fraternisation but he knew that was like using the letter of the law to defeat the spirit of the law. He was no simpleton. He knew the meaning of right and wrong and that meant all the subtle nuances that never actually made it into the statute books.

He smiled sadly to himself and fussed the dog. Porthos nudged his hand and gave him a pleading look. The Captain stroked his ears and leaned close, almost nose to nose with his four-legged friend. "No cheese, Porthos, but how about a walk? I think you've earned it."

The little dog gave a happy bark and the Captain laughed. Letting himself out of his quarters he ambled down the corridor, the dog trotting beside him. As he walked he reviewed everything that had happened over and over in his mind. He was not surprised to find himself walking towards Commander Tucker's quarters. With both the Commander and Sub-Commnder no longer physically on the ship it was his forlorn hope that they would somehow rematerialise on Enterprise. Perhaps in their own quarters this time. He determined that he would walk passed their quarters at least twice a day just in case. It was as he was drawing level with the door that a sound caught his ear. Porthos wagged his tail and pushed his nose against the door jamb as if scenting something or someone moving about inside.

The Captain reached for his phase pistol and cursed. He had left it in his quarters. He hesitated, considered calling for security then he heard it again. Someone was definitely inside Trip's quarters. His heart leapt with hope. Perhaps it was Trip? If the Commander had returned the last thing he needed was for him to over react and raid his room with an armed security team. No. If he was sensible he would play this cool. He wanted to win his friend back not alienate him even further. He was about to ring the chime then thought better of it. Just in case whoever was in there wasn't Trip. Steeling himself he tapped in the over ride code and stepped into the room as soon as the door hissed open. What he saw froze him in shock.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed looked up, his expression one of distress and anxiety overlaid with surprise then shock. The Captain could not believe his eyes. Commander Tucker's quarters were a mess. Totally ransacked and the culprit was staring back at him with a guilty look. He felt his temper rising and stepped right up to the mortified man. "Lieutenant Reed! You had better have a damn good explanation for why you are searching Commander Tucker's quarters and give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw your ass in the brig?"

* * * * *

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Three people have made comments

WOW, you certainly have a great command of English, and the way you string those pearls together...I can't get enough of it. This was just superb!

MORE MORE MORE!!!

Still loving protective Malcolm. I thought Phlox's observations were delightful. My favorite was "If the Captain tried anything the Lieutenant would not simply take it. He would react. Swiftly. Firmly. Perhaps that was what the Captain needed. A short sharp shock to bring him back to his senses."

I'll make you a deal- I'll give it to Soval in Consquences if Malcolm can beat up Archer in this one? ;) Swiftly. Firmly.

Although Archer's mental processes are beginning to make me think one of the other reviewers are right-is the entity changing/exaggerating their thoughts? Hmmm. . . quite a web you weave. I love it.

Anyway, more, please. And I'd add the obligatory soon, but you update far quicker than most and thus, it just seems greedy. Not that I'm not, mind you.

Sorry I didn't get to this sooner - been swamped. You still have me mesmerized by this story. And it's not only the plot, but how you have been able to capture each character, and how beautifully poetic your writing has been. It didn't even 'dirty' with Malcolm looking on during Trip and T'pol's intimate situation.

Thanks again.